


Better just go with the flow

by jihansol



Category: SM Entertainment | SMTown, SM Rookies
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:32:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4541679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jihansol/pseuds/jihansol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just him and Yuta and the road in front of them, open and inviting, full of promises of something big, bigger than this, than home.</p><p>warnings: implied homophobia / mentions of violence</p><p>
  <a href="http://dosol.livejournal.com/1073.html">lj mirror</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better just go with the flow

_I'm thinking we should ride_  
_To a place that we don't know_  
_To a place where no one's seen us before_  
_I'm thinking, you and I_  
_Better just go with the flow_  
_Last thing that we should do is go slow_  
  
  
  
  


Ten is out of breath by the time they reach their car. _Technically_ , a voice pops in his head, the same monotone matter-of-factly voice that appears from time to time and tries to keep him in check, reminding him that it's not really their car. They stole it from a dumpsite two towns over, five days ago. The engine is old, rumbling loudly in protest whenever they start the car, foam coming out of the old leather seats in thick puffs like cotton candy. The paint is chipped on the driver's side and the radio only plays three stations, but it's enough for them. It's their fourth week on the road and Ten's stopped keeping track of all the places they've been through so far a long time ago. It's better this way, he supposes, not caring about what town they're in or what day of the week is.

It's just him and Yuta and the road in front of them, open and inviting, full of promises of something big, bigger than this, than home. Just the two of them against the world, living on the road until they find what they’re looking for and settle down for a while, do the whole nine-to-five-job routine and be the responsible adults society expects them to be, until it becomes too boring and they run away again, repeating the process.

And if always getting into trouble is considered a talent, then the two of them sure as hell have it. Whether it's because they aren't afraid of anyone or anything, or because they don’t care what people think when they smile at each other in public, when they sit close, pressed up against one another as if someone had glued them together, impossible to break them apart, touching, always touching. "If people don't like it, then they can fuck off," Ten remembers Yuta saying when they were younger, when they realized they were more than just best friends attached at the hip; after the other kids at school had started to realize it too.

Growing up was hard, especially the beginning stages of adolescence. Being the only two foreign kids in their school and being closer than people were comfortable with, too cheeky for their own good—they never really stood a chance of fitting in. Ten is just glad he had someone like Yuta to help him get through it all. 

They got into a fight at the bar they were at, some shack by the road they saw on their way to the motel, went back with the intent of winding down for the night with a few beers and salty fried food, yet here they are. Ten can feel a dull throbbing pain coming from the corner of his jaw and he tastes the blood in his mouth, sharp on the tip of his tongue. 

His knuckles are bruised and raw, and he watches at his hand with fascination as he unclenches to see how it feels and laughs when he can barely feel a thing. No pain, nothing. It’s going to hurt in the morning—he knows this from experience, yet he never seems to learn from his mistakes—when the high subdues and the cheap adrenaline rush that's coursing through his veins simmers down, and that thrill of fucking shit up and running away from trouble is gone and he no longer feels like he’s the king of the world. Pain and reality will be taking over as soon as he blinks his eyes open in the morning, but he’s not complaining.

Yuta's got his arms braced on his knees, bent over as he pants for breath, and it's only when he straightens up does Ten see the bruises on his face. On his temple and his cheekbone, flakes of dried blood caked under his nose, dark and nasty. It looks bad, the one on the cheek, but Yuta is smiling, laughing even. Ten reaches out to push Yuta's hair to the side—it's much longer now; the last time he cut it was weeks before they embarked on this road trip, when this was all just a plan they talked about under the sheets, over a shared cigarette out on their balcony late at night. 

Yuta doesn't even flinch when Ten runs his fingers over the wounds on his face, gentle and soft, careful not to hurt him any further.

"S'okay," Yuta says around the cigarette he's holding between his teeth, as reassuring as he could, rummaging through his pockets for the lighter. The flame lights his face for a few seconds, clearly showing the state he's in and all its beaten-up glory. He takes a long drag and smiles brilliantly, "how's that pretty lil' face of yours?"

His hand is rough and calloused against the side of Ten's face when he touches it, tilts his head gently to the side to take a closer look at the blow he received to the side of his face. Ten shrugs, not a bit deal. "I've had worse."

"So," Yuta blows the smoke out through his nose, runs a hand through his hair. "Where we off to next?"

Ten looks at him, at the horizon behind him, the darkness and the starry sky that surround them, practically swallowing them whole. "Does it really matter?" he chuckles as he fists his hand in Yuta's shirt to pull him in, kisses him hard enough to bruise.

Yuta's hand finds its way to his hair, long fingers threading through it, pulling hard enough to make Ten gasp against his mouth, to make his knees buckle, threatening to give up on him. Ten clings onto him desperately, holds on as if his life depends on it and doesn't stop kissing him, not until his mouth starts to hurt and he can no longer ignore the pain.

Doesn’t matter where they go, Ten thinks, as long as they’re together.

**Author's Note:**

> a/n I apologize for this. It's obviously too early for SMR fics, especially ones like this that aren't "canon", but I couldn't help myself.


End file.
